


Ylvis Saves the World: Deleted Scenes: After Tokyo

by LillieWescott



Series: Ylvis Saves the World [6]
Category: Ylvis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 11:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4562895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillieWescott/pseuds/LillieWescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bård gets revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ylvis Saves the World: Deleted Scenes: After Tokyo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HannaWhatever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaWhatever/gifts).



> The following short scene was deleted from Ylvis Saves the World 2: Ylvis vs. Godzilla but is here reworked and hopefully more worthy of your perusal. I don’t like to include Ylvis’s families in these stories; I’m a parent and I would imagine they wouldn’t like their kids to be mentioned in a crazy story some weird American mom writes about them fighting Godzilla. But I couldn’t think of a reasonable way to do this without the involvement of wives and kids, especially so soon after the events of that story. So, I dropped it. And apologies to everyone for everything, as per usual. This takes place after the boys’ triumphant return to Norway but before they appear on Skavlan in the last chapter.

_One month after their return from Tokyo..._

Vegard stood on Bård’s front porch. He reached for the doorbell but hesitated. Something seemed wrong. He could feel Bård’s mind, just buzzing out of reach. Bård was excited about something; it wasn’t the same as the cold dead silence he’d gotten used to hearing from Bård late at night when they awoke after nightmares. This was definitely _buzzing._

Vegard glanced at his wife and said, “Okay. What’s going on?”

Helene smiled. “We’re going to dinner?”

“But you look so happy.”

“I am happy.”

“You didn’t want to bring the kids.”

“Because it’s our night off? We almost lost you. I’m happy we didn’t lose you and I’m happy to have a night off with you. I’m happy.”

Vegard narrowed his eyes at his wife and murmured, “And yet I suspect treachery.” He backed off of the doorstep, looked around and drew in a long breath. He bellowed, “Sophie!”

After a moment a window opened and Bård’s oldest daughter poked her head out. “What are you doing?”

“What’s going on?”

Sophie rounded her eyes innocently at Vegard. “We are waiting for you to get in here so we can eat. You’re late.”

Vegard raised a brow and checked his watch. “I am _never_ late for a dinner party.”

“You are so.”

Vegard studied her. She wasn’t as good at lying as her father. But she looked excited. He said, “I’m very suspicious.”

She rolled her eyes. “ _Pappa sier «kom inn!»_ ”

“Tell me. Is this a prank?”

Sophie disappeared and the window slid shut.

Vegard nodded to himself with defeat as he tucked the end of his scarf down into his jacket's collar. He supposed it was better to expect a prank and then act unsurprised when it happened. Bård hadn’t played a trick on him since they’d returned from Japan. It was a sign he was getting better, so whatever Bård had planned for him, he’d have to accept it. He just hoped it wouldn’t involve getting doused with water. Since he’d been drowned in the cave and been stranded in the ocean he’d developed an aversion to water. He really needed to get over that. He wanted to learn how to properly sail next summer. Sailing was pretty cool.

“Vegard?” Helene touched his forearm. “You’re worrying again, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine.” He held his hand out and she took it in hers.

She squeezed it gently and said, “It will make him happy that you’re willing to do something this normal. It’s just dinner with your brother. And I’m here. We are all here. You aren’t alone.”

Vegard smiled and nodded. Of course he was now absolutely certain he’d been summoned here for the express purpose of being pranked by Bård in some devious way. But his wife was smiling; surely it wouldn’t be too bad. Or maybe she didn’t know about the prank. He supposed it was a good sign if Bård was feeling well enough to plan one of his elaborate tricks for his benefit. And Vegard was hungry. Fine. He rang the doorbell.

Bård swung the door open before the bell’s sound faded. “You’re late.”

“I am _never_ late.”

Vegard shrugged out of his coat, turning to help Helene with hers. He glanced around as he slipped off his shoes, steeling himself not to react when something inevitably jumped out at him. Nothing did, but Calle and Magnus were standing behind Bård. Magnus was beaming at him. Calle’s face was inscrutable. _Oi oi oi,_ this was definitely going to be bad. Vegard swallowed nonchalantly and said, “And so. What’s for dinner?”

“Sushi.”

“Really?”

_“Nei._ It’s salmon.”

“That’s a relief.” Vegard wondered if the salmon he would get would be served still alive. Or packed full of something weird, like dice or a hamster.

It was neither. Dinner was served and nothing untoward happened. The friends chatted amiably over the delicious meal, Bård’s children were merry and no one did anything suspicious. Vegard found he couldn’t eat as much as he would have liked. A knot formed in his stomach that worsened as the meal progressed. He tried to relieve it with a beer Calle offered him, but his anxiety only grew worse. He wished Bård would just get it over and done with.

Vegard glanced at Bård several times while they ate and found him staring at him with amusement. He obviously knew he was driving Vegard crazy.

After the meal was finished they quickly cleared the table without incident. And after the children were properly put to bed the adults retreated to Bård’s comfortable living room. Vegard sat next to his wife on the sofa and looked around. He smiled. Everything was white, of course, because Bård was a good Norwegian. But there was a bright blue throw pillow on the large (and white) comfortable chair Bård settled into.

Bård held out an arm to Maria but followed Vegard’s gaze to the blue pillow and grinned. “It’s there just for you, _storebror.”_

Bård’s petite wife slid onto his lap and laughed. “Bård worked on that for a long time. He said it would make you happy.”

Bård asked, “So. Are you surprised?”

Vegard let out a breath. Maybe the practical joke had simply been that Bård made Vegard suspect something terrible would happen and had enjoyed watching him squirm. But it all only amounted to a pillow. What a relief. He said, “I am surprised.”

Bård nodded. “Good. You should take it home. It’s giving me a migraine.”

He casually tossed the pillow to Vegard.

Vegard caught it and turned it over in his hands. He’d thought it was just a plain blue pillow, but he realized only one side was a single swatch of fabric, an electric blue the color of Blueberry’s eyes. The other side was quilted with four or five shades of blue. Squares of the two darkest colors were stitched together to form Mothra’s cross symbol, and the other squares and triangles formed rays expanding outward to the edges.

Vegard’s eyes misted. He looked up at his brother and said with awe, “This is beautiful, Bård.”

“I would have made it nicer but I didn’t want you to feel inadequate.”

“Did you do this all by hand?”

“Quilting skills, _bitch.”_

Vegard felt tears welling up in his eyes. That wouldn’t do at all. He didn’t want everyone to see him get so emotional.  Talking about feelings made him uncomfortable in the best of circumstances and the entire family had been treading on eggshells since they’d come back to Norway. So he sniffed bravely and said, “This is truly expertly done.”

Bård actually blushed, embarrassed, and ducked his head to acknowledge the compliment. 

Vegard sighed, _“Nei, nei, nei,_ I feel a little foolish. I thought you invited me to your house to pull some cruel prank.”

“I did. That blue is terrible.”

“Of course it isn’t. _Tusen takk,_ Bård. But now I wish I’d brought more than a bottle of wine with me tonight. To repay you somehow.” He returned to examining the careful stitching, running his fingers over the neatly pressed seams.

Bård grinned and said, “There is no need to concern yourself, my dark brother. The time for your payment has arrived.”

Vegard’s head snapped up and he looked around, realizing with dread that both Calle and Magnus were missing. The hair stood up on the back of his neck and he briefly considered bolting out of the house, leaving his wife and shoes behind. But he couldn't.  He just had to take whatever Bård dished out. Bård had been terribly fragile these last four weeks. Vegard suspected he was beginning to remember things best forgotten. He’d just let Bård have this. He would not run out like a little girl. Not running away. Don’t move. Accept it.

He looked up at Bård, who frowned at him and said, “Stay where you are. You owe me.”

Vegard gulped but smiled brightly, “I wouldn’t run away. Do your worst.”

Magnus’s voice boomed from behind him, “Okay, _vær så god!”_ His enormous feet thumped ominously on the white wooden floor of the hall and he appeared with a large, straight-backed (white) wooden chair and a rolled-up blue plastic tarp. He lay the tarp down over the white wooden floor in front of the white sofa and then set the chair down in the center. Then he folded his arms and looked incredibly uncomfortable.

Vegard swallowed hard and handed Bård’s pillow wordlessly to Helene. He looked up at Magnus. Magnus suddenly seemed even more gargantuan than he usually did.

Bård gently disentangled himself from his own wife and stood in front of his brother. He held out his hand. “Come on then. Payment is due.”

Vegard let Bård pull him to his feet and sit him down on the chair Magnus had brought. Bård grinned at him and said, “I apologize to the prisoner’s wife, but now we will tie the prisoner to the chair.”

Vegard’s hackles rose. Surely Bård didn’t want to replay the events in the shed in front of their wives. He gulped and asked, “Why?”

“Payback.”

Vegard glanced at their wives, now sitting next to each other on the sofa, eyes twinkling. Helene winked at him and said, “I don’t mind if he ties you up. Maybe this will give me ideas.”

Vegard raised a brow. Hadn’t she been in on Bård’s plot the whole time? He looked up at Bård and said, “No duct tape.”

“Of course not.”

_“Fint.”_

Calle appeared and presented a white box to Bård, who pulled out what were obviously two hospital wrist restraints.

Vegard gulped again. “I suppose running away isn’t an option at this point.”

_“Nope.”_

Vegard held out his wrists, aware his wife was watching him. He didn’t want to look like a coward in front of her.

Bård nodded and handed the cuffs to Magnus, who nervously wrapped them around Vegard’s wrists, muttering, _“Sorry”_ as he did so. When he was finished, he stood at attention and announced, “The prisoner is ready.”

Bård nodded and Magnus knelt down and pulled Vegard’s hands down, securing them to the chair legs at his sides.

Vegard frowned, “I can get out of this easily. I just have to pick up the chair and-“

Bård commanded, “Vegard will not resist or else there will be punishment.”

Vegard shuddered, recognizing the same words Bob shouted on the dragon as Vegard, injured and despairing, held Fu in his arms. Was Bård remembering his rampage? Was Bob breaking through?

Magnus stood again and rested his giant hands on Vegard’s shoulders. Vegard sighed with resignation and wondered why they’d bothered tying him to the chair. He couldn’t move with Magnus holding him down. Magnus could pick him up like a doll if he wanted. And where had Calle gone?

Bård placed his right hand on the exposed skin of his brother’s neck, and their minds slid together. Vegard would have been happy to do so if he weren’t so cross about the situation.

_V: What the hell are you doing? And why are you doing it front of Helene?_   
_B: I think it’s hilarious that you just accept all of this._   
_V: I accept it because she’s here, obviously. I don’t want to cause a disturbance._   
_B: You are so gullible. Always accepting._   
_V: I trust my wife to call the police if you lose your mind._   
_B: You’re terrified._   
_V: Of course I am._   
_B: I love this. You are going to feel so stupid for being afraid._   
_V: What are you going to do?_   
_B: Revenge._   
_V: For being in restraints?! You are not going to drug me. I won’t accept an injection or…_   
_B: Wait for it._   
_V: I’m going to start yelling for help._   
_B: No you won’t._

Bård withdrew his hand and stood back, folded his arms, and grinned. “I should just let you squirm for a while, wondering where your fate lies. Anticipation.”

Vegard looked back at his wife for help. Her eyes were crinkled with amusement. He would just play along. As long as they didn’t try to drug him. Or chloroform him. Or make him so drunk he would pass out. Or –

Bård laughed.

And Vegard scowled. He felt almost positive Bård could read his thoughts from a distance. One-way communication was obscenely unfair. Fine. He let out a slow breath and looked back up at Bård. “Do your worst.”

Behind Bård, their wives laughed. Maria raised her glass to Vegard and said, “Our hero.”

She clinked a glass with Helene, who replied, “I am very proud.”

Bård’s grin widened and he pulled a small white table forward and placed it front of Vegard. He called out, “Bring the tribute forth, O Faithful Spirit Calle.”

Calle appeared, standing ramrod straight, looking solemn, and holding a large mixing bowl. “It is accomplished, Brother Bård.” He set the bowl down. It was brimming with cream porridge. It smelled of cinnamon.

Vegard groaned, _“Oi oi oi oi oi…”_

Calle brought another (white) chair and Bård sat down in it, facing Vegard. He held out his hand toward Calle and loudly commanded, “Spoon!”

Calle barked, “Spoon!” and produced a large wooden serving spoon, slapping it into Bård’s hand like a surgical instrument.

“Napkin.”

“Napkin!”

“Bib.”

Calle pulled out a large white cloth with a flourish and tied it around Vegard’s neck. “Bib, sir!” Calle clapped his heels together and saluted.

Vegard inwardly sighed. Of course. He should have predicted this. Three days ago the four men had gotten together to compare notes about their adventures. Magnus heard, for the first time, how Vegard had helped the hospital staff tie Bård down and then spoon-fed him when he’d refused to eat. Magnus had cried with laughter at Calle’s description of the event and at Bård’s dour expression. Bård had no choice but to seek revenge. Of course he had to save face with Magnus, his most ardent admirer.

Vegard supposed he had this coming, although if given the choice to do it again he still would have fed Bård. But it was a little much to do this in front of his wife. He had a hard enough time facing her after some of the humiliating things he’d done in their shows for the sake of comedy. So he protested, “ _Nei, nei nei,_ I’ve changed my mind.” He grasped the wood of the chair and bent forward to stand. Magnus pushed him firmly back down to the floor.

Vegard said, “Wait a moment. I just want to-”

Bård silenced him with a ridiculously large spoonful of cream porridge. It was delicious, but there was far too much for Vegard to get it all in his mouth. Blobs of it dripped down his chin and onto the makeshift bib. The women burst out laughing.

Three giant spoons later Vegard mumbled, “If you make me eat all this I’ll vomit.”

Calle took his place behind Bård’s chair and folded his arms. “The council has determined that you must eat every drop.”

Magnus said, “You’re lucky. That hospital porridge was terrible.”

Calle shrugged, “I thought it was good.”

Bård waved the next spoonful in front of Vegard’s face and made a plane _vrooming_ noise. “Here comes the plane… open up the hangar.”

Vegard rolled his eyes and opened his mouth. Bård managed to get more of it in his mouth this time, as well as more all over his face.

Bård smirked mischievously at Vegard and said in a voice he usually reserved for speaking to babies, “Vegard was a bad boy, wasn’t he? And that porridge that Vegard fed Bård was cold and revolting. If Bård weren’t the very essence of mercy he would feed you dog food, yes he would.” He pushed another spoonful into the general vicinity of Vegard’s lower face.

Maria interrupted, “I told him I wouldn’t allow this unless we at least made you something decent to eat.”

Helene was watching the proceedings with rapt interest. Vegard wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Vegard also wasn’t sure whether he felt particularly grateful for the thinner Norwegian porridge because the next spoonful Bård gave him mostly went up his nose. He sneezed it out, spraying it over Bård.

Vegard grimaced, apologizing with a mumbled _“Unnskyld.”_

Behind Bård, Magnus and Calle howled with laughter and after a few seconds Vegard couldn’t help but smile as well. He expected he looked funny covered with food. And Bård was definitely having a good time. That was familiar. That was good. That was a relief.

So Vegard said, with an English accent, _“Can I have some more?”_

The room’s laughter doubled and Bård somehow managed to get porridge in one of Vegard’s ears. And in his hair.

By the time the bowl was emptied, Vegard was completely plastered with porridge and everyone was crying with laughter.

Bård stood in front of Vegard and folded his arms, looking grim. “Now, Vegard. You have felt the true fury of my wrath.”

“ _Ja,_ Despite your subtlety, I think I am catching on. I apologize deeply for my trespass against you.”

“You unfairly made me eat terrible American food for your own selfish and evil reasons of wanting me to not die.”

“I see now that I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“You will never try to save me from death by starvation in such a manner. Ever again. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Hm.”

Calle drew forward and offered Bård several folded wet washcloths stacked high on a plate, saying in a posh British accent, _“I believe Sir requires a washcloth?”_

Bård nodded solemnly and took one of the cloths. He wiped his hands with it and then moved forward and began washing the goo off of his brother’s face.

The laughter died away as Bård worked carefully, gently wiping the cereal from Vegard’s eyes and lashes, and then brows and nose, and finally his mouth and chin and neck. When he ran out of washcloths he looked down at Vegard pensively and sighed. “You are probably going to have to wash that out of your hair before you leave.” He pulled away the makeshift bib and nodded to Magnus. “I command you to wash the prisoner’s hair.”

Vegard yelped as Magnus loosed his hands and pulled him up by one arm. Calle grabbed the other arm and the two larger men dragged Vegard toward the kitchen as he stumbled and giggled loud protests. Helena stood as well, following them into the kitchen and calling out, “I’ll get the shampoo!”

Bård sat down next to Maria. She asked, “Feel better?”

_“Ja.”_

A crash sounded from the kitchen, immediately followed by more laughing and shouting. Bård winced as more crashes followed; it sounded like a dozen pans had clattered to the floor. But even that racket barely drowned out the laughter.

Maria tapped his forearm and pointed towards the hall. Their two daughters were were peeking around the corner at him and giggling into their hands. Bård sighed, “Go ahead.”

The girls darted into the kitchen and their high-pitched squeals of laughter added to the chaotic sounds of crashing cookware and splashing water.

Bård put his arm around his wife and let out a contented sigh. _“Ja._ I feel _much_ better.”

 

 


End file.
